There's a fine line between you and I
by movesthroughmoonbeams
Summary: "The Arts are all about pushing boundaries. Pushing the boundaries of society; pushing limitations, and most importantly pushing yourself." Faberry multific. Based in Season 2, possible spoilers. Rating subject to change.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: Nope, I do not own Glee c: not one little bit.  
This, was just a bit of experimentation of my part, I'm really trying to get my Quinn and Rachel on the money for this fic, please leave your regards on how I portrayed them if you can spare the time.  
Thaaankyou~ 3  
Hope you like it.**

It was finally that time of the week again.  
It was nearing the Glee Club's next session.  
Of course, I say _nearing_ because I hadn't arrived yet, and as the unanimous female captain of the Glee Club—Finn being my male counterpart, naturally—I highly doubt my fellow members even begin the sessions without me.  
After all, if there is no leader, who is there to bring you to a higher glory?  
I couldn't help but smile, not because I thought they were completely "hopeless" without me, more so at the fact of my tacit want as a young woman of my age to be relied on and know I _am _relied on was being fulfilled.  
That wasn't shallow, right?  
Of course not.  
Now, winning smile Rachel, and begin this session of Glee Club.

I brought myself in posture and made my way into our rehearsal, hearing the usual mindless chatter and turning on my heel, smoothing back my skirt and sitting next to my –leaning on regrettably– ex-boyfriend and male counterpart, Finn.  
I gave him my Broadway smile, and he looked away.  
I felt my smile wash away.

Finn.

My long lasting on-and-off high school taboo of a relationship with Finn had ended yet again.  
It was I who ended it, this time.  
Why?  
Well, It began when I was watching the news, hosted by a pointed faced woman with her blond hair pulled into a tight bun.  
I like watching the news, to keep updated on the world surrounding me.  
Of course, the only things that really intrigued me were talk of the theatre, so when the name "Barbara" was spoken my neck snapped up immediately.  
I frowned when I realised it wasn't who I wished it was, but a woman called Barbara de Angelis. I was about to zone out again until but something this Barbara said in her interview that thieved my attention.  
"You never lose by loving," she told her interviewer. "You always lose by holding back."  
I muted the sound of her small audience clapping, and was struck silent.  
_You never lose by loving; you always lose by holding back.  
_I was loving Finn, I was loving him with every cell in my body, but in doing so, I was holding myself absent from my ultimate dream; the flashing lights of Broadway.

In my defence, the adrenaline from our high-school affair had been dragging its heels, and ultimately I had to think of the bigger picture; Finn meant the world to me, but singing meant the universe.  
It's the only thing that I know I can rely on; _Finn_ had cheated on me, lied to me, and used me.

Singing was my one true love, my only romance, through and through.

Of course, Finn and I were still viewed as the Glee Club's representatives; so I had to keep my relationship with him friendly, but professional.

"Hey guys!" Mr. Shue walked in from his office, clapping his hands and snapping me out of my train of thought.  
I fixed my smile on again and focused on the present.  
"So, how is everyone today?"  
I honestly didn't understand why Mr. Shue asked a group of teenagers that when the best answer he'd get was a shrug or a groan.  
He smiled, expecting the responses I had.  
"Well, nice to know everyone's as bubbly as usual."  
He rubbed his hands together and leaned on the piano, earning a disgruntled look from Brad.  
"This week, we'll be revisiting the idea of Duets, seeing as you all loved it."  
Half of the class groaned— the "Jocks" were the main contributors to this.

I had to admit, Duets were never my favourite of topics for the Glee club to delve into.  
It seemed people were too imposed upon by my talent.  
And, it had become routine for me to sing with Finn whenever to opportunity for Duets arose, but I was a little discomfited at the thought of singing with him when he thought so little of me at the moment, we might be singing a nice classical song, then he'll break out into some alternative rock song about a bad break-up.  
I scowled.

"Sadly, this week I don't have any coupons for Breadsticks," I could almost feel Santana seething behind me, "But I _am_ going to shake things up a bit." He paced the room.  
"Lately I've been noticing you guys have been sticking into groups, The Football players and Cheerios in the back—" Kurt cleared his throat "—Sorry—and the "couples" in the middle and front."  
Brittany opened her mouth to say something, but earned a nudge from a pink faced Santana.  
"The Glee club is meant to be a _unified_ group," he brought his hands together "I don't see that much unity in here guys." He huffed.  
"Putting it simply, you need to mingle; get to know one another."  
"Where're you going with this, Mr. Shue?" Mercedes asked from the back row.  
"These week your doing duets; but I'm going to chose your partners."

There was a series of gasps, followed by loud whispers circling the choir room.  
My eyes widened.  
Pairs picked by Mr. Shue?  
But he is unaware of my full potential, my standards!  
What if he picks me to sing with someone who i'm totally incompatible with?  
What if he pairs me to sing with _Mike?_  
At the thought of his glass-shattering "voice" I shuddered, feeling my eyelashes grow wet.  
I opened my mouth, I had to say something! This was an abomination!  
"Mr. Shue—"  
"I'm going to do this quick." He said quickly, silencing the chatter.  
"Alright. Artie's with Sam," Sam looked to Artie and smiled awkwardly, Artie hit his chest twice and pulled a peace sign; I noticed both Tina and Kurt avert their eyes.  
"Tina's with Brittany," I heard a small "what?" from the both of them "Santana, you're with Mike," Santana jeered something about soy sauce, and I felt a small rush of relief "Puck, you're with Mercedes" Puck looked up at Mercedes, cocking an eyebrow and nodding at his ex-girlfriend of a record-breaking two weeks, Mercedes rolled her eyes.  
"Finn, you're with Kurt." Finn smiled, oddly apologetically but it seemed he was anticipating spending time with him.  
Kurt, on the other hand, looked away, mouthing something, and Finn looked down.

I raised my eyebrows.  
Mr. Shue really was picking the strangest of couples, wasn't he?  
...Wait.  
Arite and Sam.  
Tina and Brittany.  
Santana and Mike.  
Mercedes and Puck.  
Finn and Kurt.  
That leaves...  
"Quinn?" I looked to the Cheerio, and she looked as annoyed as ever when I was brought into context.  
"No, Mr. Shue." She twirled the pencil she kept for her notebook and gave me a catty glare, "I _refuse_ to work with Man-hands over here."  
I fumed inwardly at the tedious nickname she labelled me with, my hands were perfectly feminine!  
I tried to return her glare with the same ferocity she had given me.  
"And _I_, refuse to work with someone with as _little talent_ as Miss Fabray," I repressed a smile at my placement of words, if that didn't hit hard I didn't know what would.  
"_My_ voice is powerful and seasoned; _her_ voice is weak and watery."  
She raised her eyebrows at me, keeping the same expression, but even I could tell she was displaced from my words.  
"Watery?" She repeated, then sniggered.  
"Yes, _dilute_, _feeble._"  
She looked down to her notebook, hiding a smirk, a smirk that itself was hiding humiliation, I was sure.  
Then she quipped, "You know Rachel, you're a real—"  
"_Guys!_" Mr. Shue interjected, walking forward and clapping his hands loudly to draw our attention.  
"_This_ is a prime example of what this assignments about. Unity—especially between the two of you— is scarce in this club.  
I know some of you may have your differences, and I _know_ that Quinn doesn't have as much experience in singing as you Rachel," I couldn't repress my smile then. "_But_, she _does_ have a great voice."  
That was when Quinn couldn't either.  
"You both do.  
And I'm sure all of you know how varied the Musical world is; there's something out there for everyone, you just have to find it."  
He smiled, his lesson for the day delivered.  
But I was enraged.  
I would not have it.  
I would _not_ sing with Quinn Fabray.  
What kind of hassle will she deliver to me when were alone and practicing?  
I didn't want to risk more insults!  
_Wait, no Rachel. Just breathe.  
_My inner monologue caught me on the verge of a storm-out.  
_The Arts are all about pushing boundaries.  
Pushing the boundaries of society; pushing limitations, and most importantly pushing yourself.  
Get out of your comfort zone, it will only do you good.  
_ "I'll do it!" I blurted out, it was for the sake of my career, it was something i had to do; bigger picture Rachel, bigger picture.  
"_What?_" Quinn droned.  
Mr. Shue grinned. Fantastic. Your duets are due by the end of the week,"  
There was the sound of shuffling chairs as everyone took that as their adieu; save Quinn and I.  
Quinn was too busy deciding whether or not to look surprised or spit another insult, and I was too busy thinking over what I had just agreed to.

Soon enough, the rest of the Glee club had left, leaving the two of us behind in an empty choir room.

"I can't believe you've just signed me up to a week of living in my personal hell."  
"I can't either."


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh god, the OOCness is seeping out of this chapter. I'm so sorry. :c *frown***

I'd been standing here for ten minutes, and I still have no idea why I showed up in the first place.  
Here I was, standing on a welcome mat clutching my satchel.  
Standing on the welcome mat of _Rachel freaking Berry's house.  
_I think I could be officially classed as a masochist for agreeing to rehearse with someone like Rachel _in_ her _house.  
It's not too late to turn around, Quinn._ I thought to myself.  
Then sneered, it was true; I could leave.  
They don't even know I'm here, and I'm sure even man-hands would have doubts about me being true to my word and showing up.  
Perfect, just turn around, get in your car, and get the hell out of here.  
I turned and put one foot forward when the sound of an opening door froze me in my footsteps.  
"_Damn it..._"  
"Who're you?" An unfamiliar voice asked.  
I turned around and fixed my perfect Daddy's-Little-Girl smile. I hadn't had to use that one for a while.  
"Hello. You're Mr. Berry, I take it?" I stretched my hand out to greet the small man, and was shocked to see a darker man stand behind him and take my hand instead, shooting a cheeky smirk at the man below him.  
"He is, and so am I." He looked and grinned at me; his voice was loud and deep, even if he was talking normally.  
Oh, right.  
I remembered Rachel raving about her "two gay Dads" in Glee while we were waiting for Mr. Schu to print Sheet Music for a musical called _La Cage aux Folles._

Even if Kurt and I were leading on being friends before summer; I still haven't come to terms with being 100% ok with gays—I mean, homosexuals.

You can't really blame me though; I mean I was brought up in a strict Christian home where homosexuality was something my dad used in stories to scare me on Halloween, it's sort of expected I'm a little nervy about it.  
Still, I smiled at the two of them anyway.  
"Nice to meet you, I'm Quinn. Um, maybe Rachel said something about us rehearsing today?"  
"Oh, yes." The smaller white dad said, smiling stiffly.  
"Oh, you're Quinn.." The black dad said, his smile disappearing.  
I felt oddly unwelcomed, even after they stepped aside and I walked inside their tidy little home, lined with pictures—ordered from baby pictures to present ones—of Rachel.  
I rolled my eyes at the sight.  
Two Dads that were all goo-ga over their kid?

"Daddies', who's here?" It was Rachel's voice, unrecognisably; you could hear her painfully loud tone from miles away.  
"Oh, Quinn!" She had a weird expression on her face, it was somewhere between stunned and uncomfortable, I just raised my eyebrows.  
"RuPa-" I caught the questioning look from her dads.  
"_Rach_el."

She looked away, then back, putting on a stupidly arrogant face.  
"I didn't think you'd turn up," she walked down the stairs.  
"I figured you were too intimidated by my vocal talents."  
Was she using the fact her Dads were here against me?  
Knowing I had to keep the rep of the "perfect" Fabray's intact, she could say whatever she liked, and 'cause with her Dad's there I couldn't fire anything back.

That little bitch.

I just laughed and said something about how her jokes are so funny, mumbled something quick about how we need to rehearse, and stormed up the steps.  
I didn't know which one was her room, but I could make a wild guess from the huge and obnoxious _gold star_ hooked onto the door.

I walked into her agonizingly pink room and stood there, not wanted to sit on her bed in case one of her paedophilic looking teddy bears tried to grope me.

She followed in quickly behind me, shutting the door.  
"You made it Quinn," She sat on her bed "I'm so glad." She said thickly, obviously sarcastic.  
"Whatever, it's not like you'd care, tranny. Even if I didn't show up you'd probably do what Kurt did and do some kind of duet with yourself, right?" I joked.  
"Well, I did have a nice _original_ composition in mind, seeing as Kurt already used the prime example of a "duet" with oneself in his Victor/Victoria performance, but mine was an edgy Funk and Blues number, combining—"  
"_Shut __**up**__._" I was rubbing my temples from the minute she opened her mouth.  
She gave me a pointedly annoyed look at being cut off, but she deserved it.  
"Fine," she huffed.

It had been about half an hour of listening to her drone on about how she wished Mr. Schue didn't pair us up himself—and even if I agreed, I didn't miss every chance I could have to slip in a snide remark about her; well, this was turning out to be more fun than planned.  
But, eventually I ran out of things to say, and because Rachel never could, she didn't.  
While she thought of a way to explain to difference between Alternative Rock and Rock—since modern stuff like Paramore wasn't her best subject—I cut in.  
"—So, song ideas. You have them, don't you?"  
"Oh. Naturally."  
"..._Well, _What are they?"  
She smiled again. "I was researching possible songs on the internet last night," She climbed off her bed and over to her dinosaur of a computer, clicking on an already open page.  
"I considered Nowadays, from the break-though musical Chicago, but then I realised the song has such little vocals in comparison to its dancing." She frowned as quickly as she'd smiled.  
I looked at the screen.  
"Yeah, and they look like sluts."  
Rachel rolled her eyes.  
"Then, I figured, seeing as December is nearing us rapidly—and the weather is already growing cooler, we could sing a song of winter, fittingly called 'Winter Song'." She beamed, and I folded my arms.  
"It's a very gentle song; it reminds me of the warmth a romance can provide, even in the coldest nights that winter can endow us with." She clasped her hands, love struck.  
I scoffed, this time it was me who rolled my eyes.  
"That sounds cheesy. Besides, shouldn't I sing that with someone I want to have a _romance_ with?"  
She looked to me, confused.  
"Not necessarily. After all, the original songstresses, Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson, weren't in love with one another. Like them, we could be singing to those we love, rather than each other."

She silenced me for a bit then.

"And who do _you_ have to sing to, man-hands?"  
She looked hurt then, and I slipped a small smirk.  
"You and Finn ended _again_, right?"  
She looked away.  
"I guess he got bored of having about as much action as Andy Stitzer."  
That would have been the best insult of the night; and broken my record of consecutive insults delivered to Rachel Berry in a day.

She reacted...way different to what I'd thought, though.  
Normally she'd just roll her eyes or ignore them.

But this time, she stood up them and strode over to me "I've had enough of you! Do you want to rehearse or not?"  
My smirk grew.  
"Didn't I say last week that you'd signed me up for a week in my personal hell? You should've taken that as a no."  
She grew red-faced from whatever was boiling inside her, I blinked; I didn't know how so much anger could be in such a tiny person.  
"_Then why don't you leave?"_ She said slowly.  
"I would if I could. Sadly, we agreed to this.  
Anyway, where was I? Oh, Yes, Andy Stitzer—"  
She jabbed me sharply in the stomach with her finger.  
"I'd have you know, Quinn Fabray, in our time as a couple, Finn was very acceptant of my want to be pure until I marry, he was so supportive in fact, he would gallantly ask for permission before kissing me below the jaw, and the first time he was allowed to ... t-touch me, was after I gave him _precise_ authorization to do so!"  
"...That's a bit too much information, you five-foot little troll."  
"_And!_" She raved on.  
"_You_, Miss Fabray, _never_ had that much s-sexual interaction with him at all! W-With your prayer rituals!"  
I clicked my tongue on the roof of my mouth.  
"Please. That was all you could come up with?"  
" In _fact_, the only real "action" you've received was from Noah Puckerman when you were drunk on wine coolers! At least _I _was sober when I was touched!"

That was it, I felt rage boil inside of me as quickly as it rushed to the surface; it took over.  
I shoved her as hard as I could-She fell to the floor-but she grabbed my arm, and pulled me down with her.  
I tried to push her away but she was damn stronger then she looked.  
"_Take it back!_" I spat.  
"It's only the truth!"  
The truth? What the hell would _she_ know about the truth in _that_?  
All she knows, all anyone knows about what happened between me and Puck was that I was drunk; they act like there was nothing more.  
"He used you! He uses _everyone,_ Quinn!"  
"Shut _up!_" I kicked her then, my legs were strong from all the intense work outs Ms. Sylvester put the Cheerios through; and she fell away from me.  
I stood up.  
"Your insanity just got taken to a whole new level, Berry!"  
"Oh," She scoffed, "_my_ insanity!"

I left the house then, shoved into my car and wrenched the keys to the side, hearing the roar of the engine.  
I drove and drove to get away, but when I'd made it to an open stretch of road leading out of town, I just couldn't take it.  
I pulled to the side of the road and stayed there.  
My grip on the steering wheel grew tight, and I leant my forehead on it, uncontrollable sobs filling me, filling the car, filling the street.  
Quinn Fabray, head cheerleader, crying her eyes out over something Rachel Berry said.  
Santana would laugh, and Ms. Sylvester would kick me off the squad right away.  
But, it didn't really matter if I was crying; everyone cries, right?

I hated to admit it, but it was the only thought going through my head; maybe... maybe she was right.  
Maybe I was used.

**-  
Now, before you say anything, yes, I do love Quick.  
It was... almost painful to write this.  
But this is a Faberry fic, not a Quick one.  
So calm yo tits, as they say on Tumblr.  
All will be well *magical sparkly rainbow*  
But yes, please tell me how i can improve my Quinn if you can!  
I'd really appreciate it. *heart symbol***


	3. Chapter 3

It was three days after the... _incident_ at my residence, and I was perched on my lounge room couch, staring out our window.  
Now, it's not an uncommon thing for me to do if in deep thought, but I wasn't particularly.  
You see, today was a day that I had hosted a Glee club meeting.  
I couldn't help but smile a little when I'd realised how fabulous a leader I was being, I had to keep them on their toes somehow, and it seemed the perfect opportunity to do that by hosting such a sporadic meeting; I hadn't even planned it in advance, i hadn't even prepared _appetisers_, I'd just rung my fellow members and informed them it had occurred.

And yes, I did in fact invite Quinn Fabray.

Whilst it wasn't my deepest wish to see her again, I knew I had to make amends from before.  
While sticking up for myself wasn't out of line, retorting as I did maybe wasn't the brightest of my ideas—but, in my defence she _had_ compared me to a _40-year-old virgin._

Still, still, I won't take back what I did because it was somewhat justified, but I would try to even out the grounds between us.  
After all, we honestly did have no choice but to work together for our assignment.

I'd be the better person, for professional reasons, at least.

After much scrambling, frustrating testing of patience, and embarrassing second phone calls—third, in Quinn's case ("Excuse me Quinn but I'd like to reinform you that—" "Be quiet Berry I know about your stupid little glee-fest." There was a silence. "Maybe if you'd stop calling me I'd have time to _get out the door._" I took that as an "I'll be there soon.") the entire glee club was finally assembled in my living room.

As I glanced around the room I couldn't help but feel it was...awkward, for lack of a better word.  
Tina and Mike sat on the recliner, Tina actually sitting in it whilst Mike was sitting on the arm's chair, rubbing her back softly and tapping her nose because that was just how atrociously _romantic _they were.  
Of course I have no right to feel bitter about their relationship, but there was no denying it... I was... _slightly_ jealous—not as jealous or for the same reasons as Artie though, who was glaring daggers at Mike;  
_I_ was jealous because I'd simply missed having that kind of sentiment with someone.

Santana and Puck, on the other hand showed a completely different type of "romance".  
Vulgarity would be a better term for it.  
Santana was promptly hoisted up into Puck's lap whilst they were...ahem, excuse me... _"macking"._  
Puck looked up to Artie and waggled his eyebrows a couple times at him for some absurd reason, Artie looked down and grinned awkwardly before returning to his glaring. Perhaps he was trying to give him _all the wrong _ways to woo a woman.  
Well, they were all the wrong ways to woo a woman with _some_ dignity; of which Santana had none.

Brittany was watching the scene in an almost curious amusement, and Mercedes was looking at the scene over on my couch with her own kind of amusement.

The aforementioned scene was a bashful and discomfited looking Sam hold the hand of a bashful but still refined, as per usual, looking Kurt, and a strangely pissed looking Finn eyeing Sam like he was one of the dirtiest things on Earth, hence Sam's discomfort.

Strange; I suppose Finn's "step-brotherly instincts" were kicking in.

And Quinn, who'd finally arrived after 20 minutes of waiting, just looked too disgruntled to say or do anything.  
"Well..." I mumbled quietly to myself before clearing my throat to attract attention.  
It worked for the most part, save Santana and Puck, and I flashed my Broadway smile.  
"Welcome, everyone to our first out-of-school glee club meeting."  
I felt oddly like Mr. Schue as I paced back and forth with their dull, but still apparent interested faces following me.  
"I'd brought you all here to discuss ideas for out duet assignment,"  
I heard a collective series of whispers.  
"Yeah? And what if you and Quinn just planned this to try and get the upper hand on the rest of us?" Mercedes piped up.  
Quinn and I looked to each other quickly, and looked away just as so.  
"Excuse me, I'd just like to point out that I wouldn't 'plan' anything with the little dwarf over here,"  
I felt my brow crease a little.  
"As I would you, Miss Fabray."  
Strangely enough a low "oooh" from Mike circled the room; what, hadn't they expected me to return fire?  
_Wait, no,_ my glorious inner monologue caught me by surprise again _remember, you were going to make __**amends **__with Quinn. __**Amends.**__ "Returning fire" is not amends.__**  
**_I sighed internally.  
"...Of that nature, of course."  
Quinn raised her glance to me and when I met it with my most reassuring and apologetic of all smiles she merely scoffed and turned away.  
This would be a challenge.  
"No, I don't want to know what song you're going to sing of course, just how you're going with it," I continued my pacing, dramatic effect, even through body language, always helps capture the audience. "In fact, you mightn't even need to converse to everyone about it. Merely to your partner."  
Everyone looked confused.  
"So...What was the purpose of the meeting, then?" It was Mercedes again.  
"So Puck and Santana could make out?" Kurt replied and they both laughed, Santana and Puck pulling away from each other, irritated.  
"This will just be a short meeting, really," I flashed my star smile yet again. "It will just give you a chance to discuss with your partner, is all. I'm sure you'll be needing it, because naturally, Quinn and I are already prepared."  
I saw Quinn raise her eyebrows in the corner of my eye at my confidence in our dismal excuse of a preparation.

The rest of the club looked awed.  
I really was doing well wasn't I?

"Well, off you go." I gave them a parting "shoo-shoo" of the hand and they slowly broke off into their respective partnerships.

I walked over to Quinn once the others were deep in thought with one another.  
"That means you and me too, Quinn."  
She grunted.  
"Why would I want to be near you after you _assaulted _me yesterday?"  
I frowned.  
If I do remember correctly, _Miss_ Fabray, _you_ were the one to "assault" me; was what I wanted to say, but I merely quirked my apologetic smile again.  
"Exactly," I said softly. "That's why I needed to make sure _you'd _come."  
Quinn looked oddly surprised at that.  
Was it the emphasis on "you'd"? Because I thought that was rather fitting.  
Her brow furrowed and she looked away, then back, and I suddenly realised how very pink her makeup made her cheeks.  
"I'm _not_ going to have you get all weird where everyone else can hear, Berry."

I kept my smile.

"Would you like to go somewhere else then?"  
She hissed something under her breath.  
"_Fine._"  
I led the way up into the kitchen and Quinn slammed the doors behind us. "So spill it, Berry." She leant against the wall and folded her arms. "Why did you throw together this miserable excuse for a 'party'?"

I stayed silent for a while. That _was_ an awfully good question.

Was it truly to make amends with Quinn? Yes, but why did I want to make amends with Quinn?  
_So you can win, silly!_  
Oh, of course.  
I grinned at how brilliant my inner monologue could be.  
"So we can win." I said it plain and simple, like it is.  
I should have known she would have groaned, because she just can't comprehend my _need_ to win.  
"You really do wanna do this don't you?"  
"Indeed."  
She groaned again. "So if you only wanted to see me—"  
"I didn't say that," I added quickly.  
"_So if you only wanted to see me_," she pressed, and shifted slightly against the wall. "Why'd you invite the _whole_ glee club?"  
I blinked.  
"After our misunderstanding the other day I didn't expect you to want to come on your own."  
"Good call," she said simply.

It wasn't long until everyone eventually filed out of my house.  
I suspect they didn't want to be seen because they were all kind of sly about it, but I hadn't really minded since, in essence, it _was_ only Quinn who I wanted—I mean _needed_, for the sake of the competition, to see.

Quinn and I were up in my bedroom again and I looked around, trying to think of a means to start conversation.

"...Quinn?"I chimed in after a round of silence.  
"What?" she snapped.  
I pursed my lips and shifted uncomfortably on my bed. "I...I have something to say."  
"Do you ever _not_?"  
I fought back the temptation of rolling my eyes.  
"I'd...I'd like to..."  
_This is embarrassing,_ I thought, _I have more...pride than this. I shouldn't be the one apologising, it should be Quinn._  
"You'd like to? What, do a solo instead?" She added with a mocking hopefulness.  
"My behaviour, the other night..."  
"Oh, you've finally got the guts to apologise?"  
"_No._ I've got the guts to let you know that what you did was wrong, but I'm willing to forgive you for it." I tilted my head high with a proud grin.

She glared.  
"What _I_ did was wrong?" She scoffed.  
I nodded; her anger only grew upon knowing my seriousness.  
She clenched and unclenched her fist, obviously trying to hold back making a re-enactment of the other night.  
"...You know bringing...h-him up was out of line_._" She said it slowly, the words hissing through her teeth.  
Yes, I had thought that originally, but it wasn't _that_ absurd a comment, after all she brought things up about my past flame, why can't I do the same hers?  
"Quinn, I do believe you bringing up Finn leaves me entitled to bring up Puck."  
"_No, it doesn't!_ Because you don't understand!"  
I stayed silent.  
"You're so infuriating, Rachel." She turned away from me.  
"I'm just trying to make things better..."  
"Well you didn't ok? You just made things worse. Having too much...what, _selfish pride_ to even realise you've really crossed a line is _not_ making things better!"  
I looked to her and studied her features.  
Her eyes, a very bemusing hazel shade I'd realised, were alit with anger and...remorse?  
"This is really getting to you isn't it?" I said quietly.  
"Shut up, Berry..." She mumbled and looked away. I took that as a yes. "Quinn, look, I know we've never really gotten on before, but the point of this assignment is to bring us closer together as competitors," I touched my hand to her shoulder comfortingly, "If you ever need to talk—"  
She shrugged my hand off furiously and stormed out the door, yelling a "No!" over her shoulder.  
I followed her out frantically, trying to keep up with her quick pacing.

She slammed the front door, catching even more of my fathers' attentions to the scene we were making.  
I wrenched the door open just as she was about to clamber in her car.  
"At least tell me _why_, Quinn!" I yelled, not being able to help a small snark latching onto my words.  
"Because all you're doing is complying with a freakin' assignment!"  
She banged the door shut and drove off, probably at a speed allot higher than allowed.

I stood there, taken aback.

I felt one of my Daddy's hands around my shoulders and looked up and smiled. He smiled back, his glasses sliding down his pale nose a little, and my other Daddy stood behind him with his arms crossed, still wearing a gentle expression though.  
"Is everything alright?" Daddy squeezed my shoulders and I strode over to the couch, their concerned glances following me.  
"Well, as you've witnessed, Quinn and I have..." I sat down on the couch and smoothed my skirt, looking out the window as I had this morning; but this time I was trying to mask how glassy I could feel my eyes had become. "Very prominent creative differences."  
Daddy unfolded his arms and sat next to me.  
"Well, maybe the differences aren't just creative, baby,"  
"What do you mean, Dad?"  
"Well," he softly stroked my hair, contemplating his answer. "How well do you know this girl?"  
"...Less than necessary for our assignment."  
That's when my other Dad pitched in, leaning on the coffee table. "What's this about an assignment?" He peered at me over his round glasses.  
"An assignment for glee club. It's all about unity. Mr. Schuester picked unlikely couples to sing duets with one another so we feel more comfortable as a whole."  
Daddy nodded, and beside me my other Daddy looked to me, his dark eyes brooding.  
"I see. Well, what do you think you may have said to get to get her so mad at you?"  
"That's the problem! I honestly don't see what I could have possibly done wrong. I...I asked her if she needed someone to talk to," A smile eased on his features. "That's good."  
"I may have added that I'd like to talk to her in order to get closer to her _for_ the purpose of the assignment, but that's really all I can recall that could have irked her."  
Dad, who was leaning against the coffee table said "Ah." And my Dad looked to him, looking pointedly confused.  
"It's alright Roy," He ushered Dad aside and sat in between us.  
"Women are very fickle, Rachel."  
I gave him a queried glance.  
"Not _you_ of course. But... the _majority_ of women." He added quickly.  
Good save, Dad.  
"So you're saying Quinn's one of those women?"  
"It's... most likely, seeing as she's come to our house twice and left in a rampage, twice."  
I rolled my lips in then pressed them out again, thinking.  
"And what do I do about that?"  
"Well, it seems she's going through allot of stuff lately, she was pregnant a while ago, right?"  
I nodded, remember those months well.  
"That would have, of course put allot of strain on her emotionally, and probably still does.  
Even if she's feeling better, you should try and get to the source of the problem in case the pregnancy isn't the entire problem. _Actually_ get to know this girl. If you can put the ideas of doing it for the sake on the assignment aside, and replace them with thoughts of doing it for the sake of being a _friend_ to her, she might trust you enough to sing with you."  
"Why should I get to know her when she's _never_ bothered to do the same for me?" I asked, a little louder than I should have.  
"Because," my other Dad piped up, his arms crossed again. "That's the real point of the assignment. Not getting along just for a couple days while you try and win a competition, but actually getting to know each other and becoming _unified_—just like he asked."

I blinked, taking this in.

Oh my.  
"I grossly misunderstood the assignment at hand..." I thought aloud.  
My Dad's nodded sympathetically.  
"So, if you're saying I make an effort—a _real _ effort—to get to know Quinn, things would be better?"  
"Much." Dad pushed up his glasses again. "Besides, you never know, you might make a grand friendship with her in the end."

A grand friendship with Quinn Fabray.  
It seemed like a tall order, but of course I'd give it a shot.  
I'm Rachel Berry; I'll give anything a shot.

But, whether I'm Rachel Berry or not, becoming friends with the head cheerleader who seemed to wish for you dead would be a daunting experience for anyone; tomorrow was certainly going to be interesting.

**AN:: Well, I wrote this chapter in hospital and finished it off here. Gasp.  
But I've returned now so I can post it without any dramas. (:**

**An actual kind of semi-plot is forming, holy shit, what is this?  
(Oh, and if any of you can give me tips on how to identify Rachel's two dad's more clearly in her POV [cause of course she would use terms like "Black Dad" and "White Dad] because I don't know if i conveyed what Daddy was meant to be who that well. But yeah, if you can please leave a review. I'll answer. C: )**


End file.
